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breaths...
    While he did, Jimmy heard an overhead PA system chime on.  And then he heard the strangest sound of all.  "Attention passengers, will Terrence Livingston please go to the nearest white courtesy telephone?  You have a phone call."
    Jimmy paused and then glanced around.  Who would be paging him?
    Vanessa?
    That beautiful Asian girl?
    In the next instant, he frowned.  Something wasn't right.  Why would they page him to a phone where anyone could see him?  He hadn't known her for very long, but he felt pretty sure Vanessa would never compromise his security like that.  Unless...
    "Come with me."
    The voice was low and next to his ear.  Jimmy turned slowly.  Had the assassin already recovered?
    But the face in front of him was one he didn't recognize.  The man looked like an insurance salesman.  Just a plain drab suit and glasses.  He was balding and had a slight paunch.   
    "Who are you?"
    "Vanessa sent me.  Come with me and do it quickly."
    Jimmy followed the man down the escalator nearby. The airport seemed less busy than the one they’d left a few hours before, but as they came downstairs, Jimmy could see more crowds.  The man nodded to the right and they blended with a group of tourists long enough to get close to the airport exit.  Then they ducked through the automatic doors and were outside on a ramp leading to the parking lot.
    The man glanced around them and up.  “No cameras here.  Let’s hustle.”
    “Run, Jimmy.”
    They broke for the parking area.  As they entered the dimly lit environs, Jimmy looked around them.  Any one of the parked cars could hold more teams of killers intent on finishing him off.
    “Over here.”  
    Jimmy glanced at the man and saw he was jogging toward a cluster of cars in the area marked long-term parking.
    “Don’t tell me,” he said.
    "Tell you what?"
    Jimmy pointed at the cars.  "You're going to give me a ride?"
    The man shook his head.  "Are you kidding?  I've got to go back and clean up the mess you made in the bathroom."  he pointed.  "We're in an area that isn't covered by too many cameras, so we've got a moment to talk."
    "About?"
    The man pulled out a map and unfolded it.  "Where you're going next.  You need to get to the Port of Los Angeles.  Look here."
    Jimmy saw what looked like a subway map.  "Trains?"
    "Light rail," the man nodded.  "You're taking the green line to Wilmington Station.  Once there, you change and get on the blue line, heading south toward Long Beach.  Get off at Pacific Station."  He refolded the map.  "You got money?"
    Jimmy nodded.  "Yeah."
    "Good."  The man turned and started to walk away.  
    "Wait," said Jimmy.  "Where's the station?"
    The man pointed back the way they'd come.  "Inside the main terminal you'll see signs."  He glanced at his watch.  "You'd better hustle, you've got a train to catch."
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Jimmy found his way into the Los Angeles County Metro Transit Authority station at LAX and amid hundreds of travelers, managed to make his way onto the green line running east toward Norwalk.  As he entered the light rail car, he sighed.  At least it would be tough for anyone to tail him in this much of a crowd.
    He frowned.  Then again, it would be tough for him to make out anyone suspicious, there were so many people standing near him.  The thought that any one of them could potentially be an attacker made his stomach hurt and his heart pound.
    He took a few deep breaths and calmed down.  If they chose to attack him here, they'd only expose themselves.
    Jimmy sat down in the middle of the car and tried to read all of the advertisements plastered up above him.  A lot of travelers departed at the ensuing stops and Jimmy found himself on the train with fewer and fewer people.
    He heard the announcement for Wilmington and stood up.  As the light rail entered the brightly lit station, Jimmy leaned on his hanbo cane and hefted his small bag.  he glanced up and down the car,